Just a fun snapshot story I did a while ago, and just found again. Review if you would! *I own nothing except the plot*
It started with a wolf. A vengeful, angry, but mostly lonely wolf. When the wolf was a pup, he had had everything stripped from him, including his humanity. You see, the wolf had started out as a boy. A young, happy, loving boy. But the older wolf had ruined that. That wolf had instilled in the younger a mission to ruin others' lives, just as the older wolf had ruined his. That was how he ended up in a lazy suburb in London the evening of the full moon. The target? A small 3 year old boy whose father had dared to disagree with him in debate.
He could smell the boy. The boy saw him. The wolf's senses were overwhelmed with the stench of the boy's fear. He lunged. The boy screamed. His dad came running. The deed was done. Come next full moon, the boy would be a wolf.
The boy grew up. It was now his eleventh birthday. He woke up with a feeling of elation at the thought, which was quickly quelled by the knowledge of what this birthday would be missing. His parents had told him stories of a faraway magical place, a school of witchcraft and wizardry, where all eleven year olds from wizarding families went. But, after the incident when he was three with the wolf, he would not be able to go. His feet dragged as he pulled on his faded and frayed jeans and sweatshirt , and trudged down the hallway to the kitchen. He smelled his favorite chocolate chip pancakes and apple sausage that his mom was making for him. While his parents tried to make him feel as normal as possible, there was no mistaking the look in their eyes when they chanced a look at his scarred face. The young wolf took his place at the small kitchen table as his mother placed a plate of food in front of him. After a quiet "Happy Birthday, son" from both parents, he dug into his chocolatey breakfast.
Almost as soon as he finished, the small family heard three knocks on the shabby front door. The wolf was wondering who it was, as his mother opened the door. A tall wizard with a long white beard, purple robes, and a tall pointed hat stood on their doorstep. He introduced himself as headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The wolf thought that maybe this birthday wouldn't be so bad after all.
The end of summer seemed to drag by for the young wolf. But, finally, it was September 1st. As his parents led him through the barrier to the train that would take him to his new life, he contemplated how much his life was going to change. Yes, he would miss his parents, who obviously loved him, but most of the time couldn't bear to face him. But there would be new, exciting people, people who did not know about his unfortunate condition. He could start fresh.
The castle was bigger than he imagined. As the deputy headmistress led all of the first years through humongous double doors, the wolf tried to take everything in. The four long tables, where it seemed a million students dressed in black robes the same as his sat, to the bewitched sky that shone with millions of twinkling stars, to the long head table, where, right in the middle, sat the man who had rescued the wolf from a life of not knowing. As he nervously stood in line, waiting to be sorted into the house that would be his family for the next seven years, he continued taking everything in. He was so lost in his observations that the deputy headmistress had to call his name twice. With his face burning scarlet, he took his seat on the rickety stool, and placed the old and frayed hat on his head. As the hat contemplated, the wolf got more and more nervous. He worried that the hat would not find him suitable for any house, and he would have to go back home, forever shamed. After what seemed like hours, the hat made its choice, and he stumbled off the stool to the correct table to cheers and clapping from his new comrades.
After the wolf had eaten more than his fill at the splendid feast, he groggily followed his house prefect through hallways, up flights of stairs, and even across a bridge to a portrait of a fat lady dressed in pink. The prefect said the password, and the wolf stumbled into the hole along with the other first years. He was definitely not prepared for what he saw as he straightened up. A warm fire was burning merrily in the fireplace. Scattered all around the room were overstuffed couches, chairs, and wooden tables. The prefect was pointing the girls to the staircase on the left, and the boys to the right. As the wolf climbed the staircase, he yawned widely, and contemplated who his dorm mates would be. He opened the door that said First Year Boys, and trudged lazily into the warm room. There were four beds around the room, with red curtains around them, red and gold bedding, and what seemed like thousands of pillows. There were already three boys in the room. One had chin length curly black hair, aristocratic features, and pale porcelain skin. Another was lanky with unruly black hair and glasses. And the last one was very pudgy, and almost looked like a mouse. The wolf stumbled over to the bed that had his luggage stacked by it, and searched for his frayed pajamas. He mumbled through the introductions, his shyness evident in his downcast eyes. He slipped into the small bathroom to change, and brush his teeth, then quietly crawled into the warm, comfortable bed, and fell asleep almost immediately.
The first full moon of the term came, along with the first in a series of many lies to his dorm mates, who were steadily becoming close friends. When the wolf returned to the school after a rough night spent in a secret hideaway safe from intruders, if his new friends noticed the new scars, they did not say anything. The young wolf believed that he had succeeded in concealing his true identity. It was true, but only for a short time. They would eventually find out.
Three years passed. The four dorm mates were basically inseparable. The young wolf had found love and acceptance in the three other boys. They still did not know of his condition, and he planned to keep it that way. But, one full moon, the raven haired, porcelain skinned teen got curious. He kept his doubts to himself, but stole away under the cover of night to figure out where his friend disappeared to every month, and just how he got all of his scars. What he found out shocked him.
When the wolf awoke in the infirmary after a particularly trying moon, he saw three pairs of worried eyes looking at him. In that moment he knew they knew, and couldn't bring himself to look back. He understood if they never wanted to speak to him again, and he was sorry for lying to them all these years. The pale, angular boy scoffed and lunged to give the wolf a crushing hug. He loved him. Even with his other half. The wolf did not know what to say. The acceptance from his friends was something he never thought to receive.
As the years stretched on, the wolf found his feelings for a certain raven haired dog grow and morph into something completely divergent of what he should. He noticed every little insignificant detail about him. The way he flipped his head to get his fringe out of his face. The gleam in his liquid silver eyes when planning a new prank. The way his long, slim fingers held his quill as he painstakingly copied the wolf's homework, because he had forgotten to do it himself. If the dog noticed the wolf's frequent stares, he never said anything. But the wolf could not help but feel as if the dog was bathing more and more attention on him as the years wore on. The wolf would not let himself get his hopes up. He was notin love with his best friend. He was not.
The acknowledgement of the less than platonic feelings between the two canines came almost at the end of their school career. A certain stag and rat had noticed them weaving circles around each other, and decided to end it. They were locked in a broom cupboard until they sorted themselves out. It did not take long.
The wolf was angry. Angrier than he had ever been in his entire life. How could he have done this? Betrayed the Order. Betrayed him. As he threw a picture of the two of them at the nearest wall, he let out an anguished scream, and collapsed to the floor , broken.
They were finally back together. The dog was innocent, and the wolf was content. The dog had suffered severe trauma, so bad he would not get out of bed some days. The wolf would stay by his side, hugging, kissing, comforting. They would get through this, together.
Hexes flew. Curses ricocheted off stone walls and high ceilings. The wolf and dog were battling separate targets, both trying to protect the young pup and his friends. A misfired curse hit the dog. It seemed to happen in slow motion. He drifted backwards into the veil, gone forever. The pup screamed, struggling to get to the dog, maybe he could save him. It was all the wolf could do to hold him back. The dog was gone forever.
It started with a wolf. It also ended with a wolf. The distinction between these wolves is their memories, and how they chose to live after they lost everything.